Marigold Chain (37 page)

And then, as
Alex feinted inside the arm, he thought he saw an opening and
lunged. It was a mistake – his last, he thought, reading his death
sentence in the cold purposeful eyes. He saw the thrust coming, in
high quarte and destined for his heart; then, strangely, it checked
briefly before fractionally altering its direction. Simon looked
again into the pale gaze and then Alex’s point bit deep into his
shoulder. His sword dropped and very, very slowly, he followed it
to the floor.

His hands
shaking a little, Alex wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked
down at Simon lying crumpled at his feet with the blood soaking
through his elegant violet satin. But it was Giles who went to
kneel at his side and, after a brief examination, removed
Cromwell’s incriminating letter from his pocket.

‘
Congratulations,’ he said, glancing up at his friend. ‘An
inch lower and you’d have killed him.’

‘
I know.’
Alex’s voice was oddly muffled. ‘I know.’

‘
Do I
understand that he isn’t dead?’ demanded Lord Arlington
frigidly.

‘
You do,’
replied Giles, busy trying to staunch Simon’s bleeding.

‘
Why not?
Why isn’t he dead? I made my instructions quite plain.’

‘
Because
I’m not an executioner,’ said Alex. He looked down at Mr Beckwith.
‘And because I wanted to kill him. More, in fact, than you can
possibly imagine.’

‘
I did
congratulate you,’ Giles reminded him. And to his lordship, ‘You
don’t have to bring him to trial. There are any number of ways to
be rid of him.’

Lord Arlington
was not visibly mollified.

‘
It is
not at all satisfactory – and I am sure Prince Rupert will agree
with me when you report to him.’

‘
Prince
Rupert,’ said Mr Beckwith, coming to his feet, ‘is realist enough
to find it quite sufficient that his services return to
normal.’

The Secretary
looked sceptical and turned back to Alex, now engaged in a somewhat
unsuccessful attempt to bind his forearm with a handkerchief. Then
the door opened and Mr Lewis walked in. His face was marked and his
knuckles badly grazed but his expression was unusually
cheerful.

‘
God,’ he
said to no one in particular, absorbing the fact that everyone in
the room was bleeding from somewhere. ‘The mammet must’ve been a
hell of a fighter.’

Mr Deveril
abandoned his attempts to tie a knot with the aid of his teeth and
held out his arm for Matt to deal with.

‘
Moderate,’ he said and his voice had recovered its usual
tone. ‘Did you get Vine?’

Matthew
finished bandaging and looked up.

‘
Aye. It
was easy enough – though we’d a bit of a scuffle. Queenhithe’s
littered with battered sailors and I doubt Captain Vine’s feeling
so well either.’

Laughter
stirred remotely in the light eyes and Alex said, ‘I’m glad you
enjoyed yourself.’

‘
And I’m
glad,’ said Lord Arlington tartly, ‘that something has gone
according to plan.’ It had been a long night. He felt tired and old
and he looked on Alex with vague discontent. ‘I shall need the
written evidence to show to the King when I report this affair. I
imagine that you can explain to Prince Rupert without
it?’

Mr Deveril
gazed back with an expression that boded ill for the civility of
his reply. Then the blue gaze travelled to Giles.

‘
I rather
think it’s my turn to do some work,’ said Mr Beckwith pleasantly.
‘I’ll go to His Highness.’

‘
No.’ The
Secretary’s voice was sharp. ‘Mr Deveril can make a much more
accurate report and I wish him to do so. The fleet is still in Sole
Bay but it may put to sea any day now so the matter will not
wait.’

Alex stared at
him wildly but, before he could speak, Simon drew attention to
himself by moaning feebly.

‘
If he’s
not attended to,’ observed Matt in a tone that suggested he didn’t
much care either way, ‘he’ll die of blood loss.’

‘
Or old
age,’ snapped Alex acidly. He ignored his lordship and looked at
Matthew. ‘It seems I’m going to Sole Bay.’

‘
Do you
want me to come with you?’

‘
No. I
want you to stay with Chloë.’ He paused, an odd look crossing his
face and then said, ‘If she asks about tonight – and I expect she
will – you can tell her everything. In fact, I’d like you to. And
tell her - -‘ He stopped again, his mouth curling crookedly. ‘Or
no. Perhaps not.’

‘
No,’
agreed Matthew all-too-knowingly. ‘I’ll make your excuses and your
explanations. But that’s my limit. And you’d a tongue in your head
last time I looked.’ He grinned. ‘So get yourself home and use
it.’

~ * * * ~

London

August and
September, 1666

‘
Yet we will be loyal still

And serve
without reward or hire,

To be redeemed
from so much ill

May stay our
stomachs, though not fill:

And if our
patience do not tire

We may, in
time, have our desire.’

Alexander
Brome

{1620-1666}

At about the
time that Mr Deveril took the decision to ride to Sole Bay, his
wife – who had retired expecting to pass a wakeful night – was just
falling asleep. It was therefore not until just after eight when
she came downstairs to find Mr Lewis awaiting her in the parlour,
that she discovered that Alex had returned briefly for a change of
clothes, prior to setting off at first light for the coast.

Heavy-eyed and
anxious, Chloë stared at Matt.

‘
You mean
he’s gone? Just like that? Without even an hour’s rest? He’s mad!
Does he think nothing can be done that he doesn’t do
himself?’

Matthew
grinned. ‘Yes. But he didn’t want to go – that pot-faced Secretary
made him.’

‘
Arlington? What has he to do with it? I thought you and Mr
Deveril went after the man who – who – ‘

‘
We did.
And caught him too. You’d better sit down. It’s a long
story.’

‘
You mean
I’m allowed to know? Really? I’m honoured!’

‘
And
cheeky,’ retorted Matthew. ‘Sit down.’

Rather to his
surprise, Chloë listened without interrupting while he described
the suspicions and events that had led up to the previous night’s
successful capture. The brown eyes widened when he named Simon
Deveril but still she did not speak, allowing him to continue his
narrative undisturbed; and even when he came to the end, she sat
for a long time without saying anything.

Then, ‘He –
he’s all right, isn’t he?’

Matt did not
pretend to misunderstand. ‘Aye. A bit of a scratch, no more.’ He
did not tell her what he had learned from Mr Beckwith – that Alex
had been lucky not to lose the use of one of his hands. ‘You don’t
think that Mr Alex can’t deal with a mere dog in a doublet like
Simon, do you?’

She smiled.
‘No. What I think is that, since Simon isn’t what he seems in any
other way, it’s reasonable to suppose that he might also be rather
more of a swordsman that one would have thought.’

Mr Lewis
regarded her with bitter satisfaction.

‘
He might
be. I wasn’t there.’

‘
But you
know.’ It was not a question.

The seamed face
split in a curious grin.

‘
Aye.’

‘
Well?’

‘
God,’
said Matt disgustedly. ‘You’re a bone-headed lass. Why can’t you
ask a normal question like why Simon isn’t dead?’

‘
Because
I know why he isn’t dead. And I’m glad.’ She looked into the shrewd
black eyes. ‘And so are you. Because the truth is that if Mr
Deveril had killed him, he’d have spent the rest of his life
wondering whether he’d done a service for his country or committed
murder. And he’d never have been free of it – or of
Simon.’

Matt looked
back thoughtfully, pleased with her but unwilling to say so.

‘
If you
really want to know,’ he offered at last, ‘Mr Giles says Simon’s
swordplay was good but dirty – and that he was no match for Mr Alex
when he chose to exert himself. You’ll know that Mr Alex is pretty
fair with a blade.’

‘
I do
know. I’ve seen him.’ Chloë sighed and the smooth brow creased in a
frown. ‘How long do you think he’ll be gone?’

‘
Hard to
say.’ Matthew watched her, thinking it was a pity that Alex had
gone at all because it was high time the two of them put an end to
the nonsense between them. ‘Five days, maybe. It’ll depend on His
Highness. Meantime, I don’t doubt you’ve plenty to do.’

‘
I shan’t
pine, if that’s what you mean. I’m in attendance every afternoon
and evening for the next week and I’ve the arrangements to finalise
for selling the silk and velvet. Fenton’s on Cheapside are taking
most of it and Bennett’s the rest. I sent a length of the sapphire
velvet to Mr Penny at Saint Dunstan’s to make up for Mr Deveril –
and I thought to send some of the black brocade as well. What do
you think?’

‘
I
think,’ said Matt caustically, ‘that you should remember the
profits – but that you’ll send it anyway and probably some more
besides.’

Chloë tilted
her head and surveyed him consideringly.

‘
It’s
funny you should say that. There’s a bolt of white watered silk I
thought might suit him – and it’s very much in vogue just
now.’

Matthew got up,
shaking his head and tutting reprovingly.

‘
Send the
pink satin,’ he advised acidly. ‘He’d look a treat in
that.’

*

The Queen and
her ladies strolled across the sun-baked lawns, their silks
rustling on the grass and the ribbons of their wide-brimmed hats
fluttering gaily.

‘
It’s
so
hot
!’ moaned Frances
Stuart as loudly as she dared. ‘Surely Her Majesty must go in
soon?’

‘
She
likes the sun,’ said Elizabeth Chesterfield. ‘It reminds her of
Lisbon.’

Frances dabbed
a wisp of cambric surreptitiously over her brow.

‘
I know.
But look what it does to your skin – so
brown
.’

Chloë glanced
round at her and smiled. ‘Well, if you stopped fanning yourself
with your hat and put it on your head, you wouldn’t need to
worry.’

‘
And you
know she won’t turn back yet,’ said Lady Chesterfield. ‘She’s
hoping to meet the King, poor thing.’

Poor thing,
indeed, thought Chloë, her eyes dwelling compassionately on Queen
Catherine who was walking a little ahead of them, chatting quietly
with the Countess of Penalva and the little Buccleuch heiress. But
at least she’s learned to be content with half a loaf – which is
what I ought to be doing myself.

‘
I hear,’
Lady Elizabeth was saying, ‘that your husband is out of town
again?’

Chloë nodded
but said nothing.

Frances giggled
and looked slyly at the Countess, whose topsy-turvy relationship
with her handsome lord was a by-word. ‘What? Are you jealous, my
dear?’

Elizabeth
shrugged elegantly. ‘Nothing so fatiguing. Though I own it would be
pleasant if Philip were to remove himself occasionally.’ She eyed
Chloë speculatively. ‘Now
you
have every opportunity to amuse yourself as you wish but no
inclination to do so – while I have the inclination but very little
opportunity. Odd, isn’t it, how one always wants what one can’t
have? Take Philip for instance; when I loved him, he loved Barbara
Castlemaine – and now I’m largely indifferent, he wants none but
me.’ She paused. ‘You should remember that, my dear – because
they’re all the same.’

‘
Are you
saying I ought to provide Alex with a rival?’ laughed
Chloë.

‘
Stolen waters are sweet
and so on,’ came the
light reply. Then, ‘Did you know that Graham Marsden is
dead?’

Chloë’s breath
caught and she felt suddenly chilled despite the heat of the
sun.

‘
No, I
didn’t,’ she said. ‘When did it happen?’

‘
Two days
ago – on Friday. It’s not entirely surprising because he’s been
ailing for years. But he might have lasted longer without Sarah
coaxing him to take her rowing on the river in this heat. They say
he just collapsed and died.’

‘
So
Sarah’s a widow again,’ said Frances. ‘Two husbands and she’s still
only … how old do you think?’

‘
She’s
twenty-eight,’ replied Lady Chesterfield. ‘Though to be fair, no
one would think it to look at her.’

‘
Twenty-eight, twice widowed, rich and beautiful,’ chanted
Frances artlessly. ‘I wonder who she’ll marry next?’

The Countess
looked expressionlessly into Chloë’s eyes. ‘I wonder?’

And that,
supposed Chloë, was meant as a friendly warning.

‘
Oh
here’s the King,’ cried Frances, patting her hair. And more
quietly, ‘Thank heaven! Now we can go back indoors.’

Charles was
accompanied by his dogs and a small group of friends, amongst whom
was the Earl of Chesterfield. Chloë caught herself watching the way
his lordship’s eyes followed his wife and then rebuked herself
sharply.

‘
Next
I’ll be looking around for somebody to flirt with,’ she thought
derisively. And quoting Mr Lewis, ‘That’s no way to go
on.’